Creek Blues
by ERADICATEPOSERS
Summary: Masked by their seemingly happy relationship is something vile. Sean teaches Daniel games that only a psycho would want to play. #Diazcest
1. 1: your head, your mind, your bones

"Sean, no - stop, ah!"

Sean hovered over his baby brother with a fond smile, momentarily pinning the smaller child's wrists to the bed's soft mattress. The five-year-old laughed with delight as he used his knees and pushed at the preteen's chest, the older sibling's fingers running across the little boy's exposed, flat stomach. He tickled Daniel as fast as he could, encouraged by his joyful squeals and cries.

"Get off!"

"You're so cute," mumbled Sean. He didn't get off of Daniel and stayed firmly straddling him; his fingers, however, halted. His hands lingered on his brother's stomach before he brought one up to caress the younger sibling's cheek and the other one to gently stroke his hair.

Daniel sweetly giggled, face warming as he beamed up at Sean. The older brother leaned down suddenly and began to press a plethora of tender kisses across his forehead, nose, and cheeks before going all the way down to his jawline and back up again. The action seemed so innocent and pure, masking the darker intent in the back of Sean's mind that was nagging at the boy.

The twelve-year-old pressed his unsuspecting brother firmer against the mattress with his body as he continued to assault him with his lips. Sean began to subtly grind his hardening cock against Daniel's thin leg, the sensation that filled his hormonal body soon after feeling so good for something that was horribly wrong.

"Sean?" Daniel mumbled with uncertainty as something firm moved against him, dark eyebrows pulling close together. His brother did not respond, beginning to rock his body steadily with quiet groans sliding out of his mouth. The perplexed Diaz brother tried to push Sean away, but this only made him pin the younger brother down with more force.

Daniel was far too young and naïve to comprehend what was fully happening. All he knew was that there was this terrible pain forming in his stomach and his heart was beating fast. Whatever his brother was doing felt wrong. His brown eyes brimmed with tears as guilt overcame him. He wasn't sure why this was making him feel so bad. His brother had always made him happy. He tried to instead focus on the fact that his shirt had slid back down. He felt grateful for this, for a reason he couldn't understand. He had never liked feeling vulnerable.

Sean suddenly grunted and then stilled. Sweat moistened his skin and made his clothes stick to his skinny frame. Still in the heat of the moment and acting on a lust-driven impulse while just then coming down from this sick power trip, he planted a quick kiss on his brother's mouth. Daniel gasped at this - disgust, confusion, shock being vocalized all at once - and began to cry.

Shame flooded Sean when he finally noticed the wetness of his boxers. Worst of all was the regret he felt once he saw Daniel's tears and terrified face.

"I'm. . . I'm sorry, Dan. Come on, don't cry." He maneuvered off of Daniel and positioned his body beside his little brother's shaking frame. He grabbed the other boy's wrist and held it tightly.

"Don't tell dad, okay?" whispered Sean shakily, his nails digging into Daniel's sensitive flesh as a warning that the preteen didn't even realize he was giving - this action elicited a soft whimper. The scared sibling sniffled and submissively nodded, relieved when his older brother let go of his wrist.

"Don't cry, enano," Sean comforted with a heavy sigh, pulling his baby brother close to him and forming a tight cuddle. Trying to pretend like he hadn't just molested the person dearest to him, he inwardly promised he would never do that to Daniel again - he had known it was wrong, but he told himself that his little sibling probably wouldn't even remember it; the way he was crying and shaking in his protective hold gave Sean doubts.

"I love you."

Sean's anxiety grew when he did not receive an affectionate response in return like he usually would. The only noise in the room was Daniel's weeping and harsh breathing.

"Daniel, relax," hissed Sean, stress and guilt causing his voice to sound harder than he had intended it to be. He felt defensive, knowing what he had done was something to be ashamed of. "I said I was sorry. I won't do that ever again and. . . and I'll let you get on my PlayBox anytime you want, okay?"

This shut Daniel up. He fell absolutely quiet - much to Sean's utter relief - and snuggled into his older brother.

"Please don't tell dad," repeated Sean, practically begging at this point. Daniel did not respond. Tears pricked at the twelve-year-old's dark and tired eyes. He closed them immediately, though this did not stop the clear liquid from slowly spilling out of him, going down his cheeks, and rolling off his chin and onto Daniel's shirt.

The guilt was just too much. From that day on, Sean promised to control himself.

However, a bomb can only tick for so long until it explodes.


	2. 2: like you're an animal

**OCTOBER 28TH, 2017**

Daniel was laid out like prey along the soft surface of Sean's mattress. Tears ran down his cheeks as his big brother dug his nails into Daniel's bony, exposed hips. The boy was wide-eyed, heart going off in his chest like a fast-paced rhythm. His older brother placed all of his weight onto him, keeping him almost effortlessly pinned to the bed. Something feverish was in his eyes, something lustful and sinful.

"Stop," Daniel begged pathetically, pushing against Sean's chest. "Sean, stop. Get off. Pl-please."

Sean dipped down to kiss at Daniel's throat. Daniel's crying went from silent to audible, and Sean briefly hushed him by momentarily pressing a firm hand against his mouth.

His kissing turned to biting. He nipped at Daniel's flesh, attacking it with everything he had in him. Daniel pushed at his chest, but it didn't faze him or affect his actions in the slightest.

"I've wanted you so fucking bad," hissed Sean as he pressed his cock up against the child's bare bottom.

"No, no! Get off-!"

"Sean, you jerk! Get off!"

Sean's eyes snapped open, heart racing. His body jerked up, and he stared down at his little brother - who he was currently borderline smothering - flabbergasted.

"H-huh?"

'You douche," scowled Daniel, eyes narrowed. "You rolled on top of me in your sleep. Idiot. This is the last time I'm sleeping with you. Now get off!" Sean winced at the harshness in his little brother's voice but immediately did as he was told. He was trying to focus on anything but that disgusting dream he had (which brought back all of his repressed guilt.)

"Shit," cursed Sean. "I'm sorry, enano."

"Yeah, you better be," Daniel angrily grumbled. Sean watched guiltily as the ten-year-old wiggled out from under the thick covers that blanketed his tiny frame. The younger boy threw them at Sean carelessly.

"You don't have to be such a dick, man."

"You literally almost killed me in my sleep!" exclaimed Daniel dramatically. Sean shook his head.

"Not even, dude."

"Yeah, whatever," sneered Daniel hatefully. Sean felt hurt.

"I get it, okay? You woke up on the wrong side of the bed this morning. Calm down."

"Uh, I woke up being almost smothered to death!" Sean couldn't help but to chuckle this time. Daniel smiled as well.

"What do you want for breakfast, enano?"

"Sean cooking? I can't wait for Chef Sean Diaz's famous I-Used-The-Microwave dish. It's my absolute favorite," he retorted sarcastically.

A grin broke out across Sean's lips as he watched Daniel stand with a yawn. He observed his little brother's messy hair, pouting face, and unruly clothes.

"I'll make you, uh, pancakes."

"Oh, pancakes!" exclaimed Daniel, dropping his attitude instantly. He skipped to Sean's bedroom door, giving Sean another smile and a thumbs up. "Awesome, dude. Thanks."

Sean's heart warmed, thinking the young child was absolutely adorable. Daniel was the light of his life. He truly, truly loved his little sibling.

Just not in the way older brothers are supposed to (but he didn't like thinking about that.)

Daniel exited Sean's room without anything more, leaving the teenager alone with his thoughts.

"Lyla is so much better than you," babbled Daniel. Sean chewed hard on the inside of his cheek, his hands wrapped tight around the PlayBox controller. Almost dreamily, Daniel stated, "I bet she'd let me play. . ."

Sean did not reply. The unwanted jealousy simmering in his chest and invading his stomach made him feel ill. He shouldn't be feeling this.

"Is Lyla coming over later? Did - did she ask about me?" The nervous, shy timbre of Daniel's voice made Sean want to beat him with a brick.

"No, she's not coming over," said Sean curtly, almost mean-like. He slapped Daniel's hand off his arm.

"Why not-"

"She's seeing some dude," lied Sean, shutting Daniel up instantly. Rubbing salt in the wound, he added, "And no, she didn't ask about you."

"Oh," muttered Daniel glumly.

"Hey, cheer up," urged Sean, smiling. With manipulative intent, he stated, "It's just a dumb crush, like, a phase. You'll get over it."

"It's hard," replied Daniel tersely, hurt in his eyes that he didn't bother to hide. The poor boy wore his heart on his sleeve.

"At least I'm here? Hey, I'll let you play on the PlayBox now."

"I don't really want to anymore," whispered Daniel, his sadness seeming to increase as seconds passed. "I think I'm just going to go take a nap or something."

The kid was intensely hurt over something so stupid. Sean furrowed his brows and pursed his lips - he wondered, secretly hoped, if he ever had this effect over Daniel. Although twisted, it would mean that he cared. With impulsive desperation, he grasped Daniel's wrist as the boy went to stand.

"Stay," Sean said softly, startling himself when he consciously noted how soft and smooth Daniel's hairless skin was. He felt like such a fucking creep.

Daniel paused. He stared down at Sean, confused, before clearing his throat. "Um, why?"

"Just stay."

Instead, Daniel yanked his wrist from Sean's slacking hold. "Uh, you're kind of creeping me out."

Sean's chest ached with hurt but his cheeks flushed with anxiety. "Why would I be creeping you out?"

"I - I don't know," Daniel replied curtly, suddenly seeming eager to quit talking to Sean. "See you."

Sean tried to give Daniel the silent treatment when he woke up from his nap.

"Where's dad?" asked Daniel, rubbing the sleep from his eyes.

No answer. Daniel rolled his eyes.

"Uh, hello. I asked you a question, Sean-Wise."

"Shut up," snapped Sean, caving quickly - though he still held onto his irritation that had stemmed from hurt. Daniel stared at his big brother incredulously.

"Uh, what the hell is your problem?" angrily inquired Daniel, pouting.

"Don't have one," answered Sean calmly. "And quit cursing, or I'll tell dad."

"You suck."

"Who has a problem now?"

"You literally just told me to shut up!"

"I mean, you did say I was creepy earlier, so yeah," replied Sean bitterly.

"Dude, wait, you're seriously still thinking about that? It was just a joke. And I didn't say you were creepy, I said you were creeping me out. It was a joke."

"Whatever."

"It's not my fault you're acting like a jerk."

"Never said it was."

"So you admit you're acting like a jerk," accused Daniel.

"No."

"Ugh! I give up," groaned Daniel. Sean snickered under his breath as the boy slid off the couch and walked to the refrigerator.

Sean groaned quietly.

His hands moved up and down the shaft of his cock, pumping it to the random, basic porno he had chosen. It didn't help him at all.

What helped the most was imagining his little brother underneath him, begging to be fucked. God, it was so, so messed up, but Sean had come to terms with his feelings years before (even if he still felt extreme guilt for what he did.)

He wondered if Daniel had started masturbating yet. Most boys started that age, he figured, but it was honestly hard to imagine. The thought alone of his sex-repulsed little brother moaning as he touched himself almost pushed Sean to the edge. He wondered what Daniel got off to or would get off to in the future.

A more sadistic side of Sean pictured himself pinning Daniel down to his bed and taking what he wanted by force. He wondered if Daniel would cry as much as he did in Sean's dreams. It was twisted, and he tried not to think too long on that weird fantasy (though, it had technically somewhat happened before), but it still lingered, no matter how much he tried to push it away and into the very back of his mind.

"Daniel, fuck. . . good boy," he hissed when he came all over his stomach, thrusting his hips up instinctively. He imagined cumming inside Daniel.

After he finished and cleaned himself up, he returned to his bed. Disgust filled him and loneliness crept in. He stared up at his ceiling in the dark, imagining what Daniel was doing at that moment. Probably sleeping or still playing with his toys despite dad telling him a million times to go to bed. He smiled fondly at the thought.

Sean's creepiness didn't just stop at jerking it to his little brother. It expanded to stalking him as much as he could, snapping pictures of Daniel - some being nude images of the little boy that he promised to never get off to. He liked to pretend he wasn't a totally despicable person.

Daniel was too oblivious for his own good, and Sean planned to take full advantage of that.

Instead of sleeping, Sean was leaned over his sketchbook. He doodled as fast as he could, venting with his pen.

He'd have to rip out the page and reposition the art in the sketchbook later, as he had a strong feeling that his father or little brother wouldn't be pleased to see the youngest Diaz drawn nude with cum over his face.

It was a nasty, terrible drawing, but Sean loved it nonetheless.

He imagined Daniel's reaction if he found the art. He'd be confused at first, for sure, and then undoubtedly disgusted. Maybe a little horrified, even, that his seemingly normal big brother was conjuring up such depraved art. Though Sean was fully aware he could never show his sketchbook to Daniel or anyone (he kept it locked up safe now), he still liked to imagine the repulsion people would feel. It didn't deter him; it was ironic because while it made his guilt worse, it still pushed him to take things farther and farther.

As messy as he was, Sean didn't consider himself a pedophile or anything. He didn't like little boys. He just liked Daniel. To try to ease some of his guilt, he wondered what could be so wrong with just liking someone. But he knew he had passed the boundary of just liking Daniel when he had touched - he couldn't bring himself to say molested - the kid years back while he cried.

And despite how weird he was, Sean hadn't jerked off to the dirty images he had drawn of Daniel or anything. Not that it made much of a difference, but he wanted to help his conscious as much as he could.

He could not change what he did to Daniel. He wonders if the kid remembers and hopes, prays that he doesn't. The thought of Daniel hating him would be too much to bear. He'd probably hang himself. He not only desired to have his little brother's unwavering love, he practically needed it. It was his purpose in this meaningless, cruel world.

With too many chaotic thoughts floating around in his scrambled mind, Sean closed his sketchbook and put the pen down on his desk. With a heavy sigh, he temporarily hid the notebook under his beanbag. He made his way to his bedroom door, unlocked it, and slipped out.

He needed a cold glass of water.


End file.
